


Falling

by ToasterBoss



Series: Fledgling [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Teen Angst, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 16:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10312514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToasterBoss/pseuds/ToasterBoss
Summary: Yuuri is stuck at home after a bad training accident and Yuri decides to pay him a visit when Viktor isn't there. Which was never a good idea with Yuri's repressed emotions bubbling far too close to the surface.





	

Yuri stood outside the apartment block, looking at it through his mess of hair and puffs of breath, visible in the biting cold. The building merged seamlessly with the surrounding architecture from afar, old brown bricks and arched windows, but as one approached, the steel and glass doors of the entranceway stuck out like an eyesore. The complex had been renovated almost a decade ago, which was when Viktor had purchased it, determined to get out of his parents’ house and had never looked back. Yuri had visited the place multiple times, he used to dread it little over a year ago, when he had been forced to attend sterile parties hosted by Viktor for skaters and sponsors alike. The place had not felt homely in the slightest, instead more like a show room which Viktor pretended to inhabit. Each magazine had been selected for splaying artfully across the coffee table instead of for reading, each knickknack had been purchased in one shopping trip just to fill the otherwise barren shelves and Yuri was sure that the pots and pans hanging in the kitchen had never been used. When he stretched his memory back the only signs of life had been the stray dog toy that Viktor had overlooked and a shelf full of worn books. 

A few seconds to steel his nerves and Yuri walked forward until he found himself outside the huge glass doors. He didn’t even have to scan the line of buttons for the right one, his hand knew from pure muscle memory. 

“Hello?” asked a voice in accented and poorly pronounced Russian.

“It’s me, Katsudon. Let me in already.”

“Oh, Yurio! Viktor isn’t here right now, but come right up.”

A loud buzz signalled the door unlocking and Yuri hurried in out of the chill. 

The stairway creaked slightly under his feet, the steps made of carpeted wood, a vast difference to the concrete apartment Yuri had grown up in. There also wasn’t much noise, the walls and doors thick enough to contain the occasional mumble from the quiet, reserved neighbours. Once again it was a world away from where Yuri had spent his childhood. He remembered music blasting from behind each door, children crying and couples shouting. He couldn’t blame them when his family had contributed in the exact same way. 

Yuuri was waiting for Yuri in the doorway to his apartment, a thin blanket draped over his shoulders and a soft smile on his face. “Hey, Yurio.”

Yuri bristled and rushed up the last flight of steps, two at a time. “What are you doing up? You’re going to make your knee worse and if that happens you won’t be able to skate! Then how will I defeat you fairly?” Yuri near shouted right at Yuuri’s face. 

“Yurio, this isn’t my first training injury, I know my limits. Also, do you want some hot cocoa? I was just about to make some.” 

“Everyone says that, but they’re wrong. Now go sit down, I’ll make the cocoa.”

By some miracle Yuuri did as he was told, limping back into the apartment and collapsing on the couch. 

Unlike a year ago the apartment seemed to welcome Yuri when he stepped in. The place felt lived in, instead of occupied only by robots. Dotted everywhere were mementos from Yuuri’s home and the places he had travelled with Viktor, from Barcelona to Moscow. The kitchen wasn’t a mess, but it looked used with the pots scuffed and a few dishes in the sink, from what appeared to be breakfast. Even the previous signs of life, the books and dog toys, seemed homier. The books seemed to have increased in number, crammed into every spare space of the bookshelf and the dog toys were so numerous they creating a tripping hazard. Along with his toys Makkachin himself now had a bed in the living room, instead of in another room away from guests. The television had also been hooked up to a gaming console which Yuuri seemed to have been in the middle of using. 

“Glad to see you’ve been spending your time on important things.”

“Well, I am injured, what else am I supposed to be doing?”

“I don’t know, responsible adult things?”

Yuuri tensed, his shoulders hunching forwards. “Oh yeah, there are some things I could be doing… I’m injured though, I can take a day off… or ten.”

Yuri huffed and went to the kitchen, not needing to ask where anything was kept. “Between you and Viktor I have no idea how anything gets done at all. You’re just as bad as one another.”

That got a laugh out of Yuuri. “At least I can cook, unlike Viktor. How did he not die before he met me? What did he eat?”

“I have no idea,” admitted Yuri as he fetched the mugs and milk. “I just assumed he went out to restaurants whenever he was hungry.”

“That rich idiot,” said Yuuri in a disgustingly fond tone.

It took biting his tongue to keep Yuri from souring the mood with some spiteful comment. Instead he made their drinks in silence, putting all his effort into making it as perfect as possible, even going so far as too add the tiny marshmallows Yuuri adored so much. The grossly cute globs of diabetes were brought out pretty much every time they had a movie night, along with the homemade treats that Yuuri said he learnt how to bake from his mother. Yuri treasured the memories of dark cold nights spent under a mountain of blankets on that aggressively modern couch, belly warm from the hot drinks and mouth full of sweets. Most of all he savoured every moment spent next to Yuuri, so close their sides pressed together.

“So, I’m curious, why are you here?” asked Yuuri as Yuri brought the drinks over. “You only ever come round when Viktor is here to talk about skating with. Well, that’s the excuse you use.”

There was definitely a blush forming on Yuri’s face, he could tell by how hot it felt. “I just wanted to check you were okay. I can’t have my main competitor knocked out of next season because of some stupid training injury and seeing as your stupid fiancé isn’t here to take care of you, I was the only one for the job.”

That soft smile of Yuuri’s face simultaneously boiled Yuri’s blood and made his heart give a weak little flutter. 

“Viktor only left me here to go train because he knew I was fine, Yurio. I can take care of myself.”

“Bullshit! Now shut up and tell me what I can do to help.”

“I can’t do both of those things, Yurio.”

“Do you need blankets?” shouted Yuri, getting more agitated by the second. “It’s cold, so don’t you want to get warm?”

“Well, I could do with an extra blanket. This one isn’t the warmest.”

“STAY RIGHT THERE!”

Yuri sprinted to the bedroom and kicked open the door. The bedroom was even more lived in than the living room, clothes littered the floor, the bedcovers were rumbled and suspicious looking foil packets adorned the bedside table. He crossed the floor to the bed, ignoring what the signs around him said, ripped the duvet from the mattress and returned to Yuuri with it, throwing it over him. “Here, take it. What else do you need?”

A muffled laugh drifted from under the duvet. “Well, I’m kind of hungry.”

“Stupid pig, can’t even feed yourself. Viktor should never have left you alone.”

There were several containers in the pantry containing baked goods. Not knowing which one Yuuri would prefer Yuri gathered them all up in his arms, careful not to drop the stack on the floor. The walk back to Yuuri was slow and precarious, the tubs of food threatening to spill with a single wrong move, but years of ballet and skating did miracles for balance. By the time he reached the couch Yuuri had emerged from his cocoon of comfort and sat there grinning, hot drink in hand. 

“I know I said I was hungry, but not that hungry. Or are you trying to fatten me up?”

“Shut up! I’m just trying to be considerate.”

“Thank you, Yurio. I do appreciate it,” said Yuuri as he reached for one of the containers.

“No, wai-” began Yuri, but it was too late.

The mountain of containers toppled over, lids bursting open as they hit the floor, sending the contents everywhere. It was as if Makkachin had been waiting for that exact moment, biding his time like some criminal mastermind, as the second the food hit the floor he was already halfway across the room from where he had been dozing. Before Yuri could even move to stop him Makkachin had opened his slobbering jaws and was cleaning the floor with his tongue, devouring all in his path.

“No, bad dog! You’ll only end up at the vets again!” shouted Yuri as he tried to pull the idiot away, but found that the old poodle was still strong enough to drag a spindly teenage boy.

Yuri grit his teeth and dug in his heels, he wrapped his arms around Makkachin’s chest and with all his strength pulled the dog away from the siren call of Yuuri’s baked goods. He didn’t let up until he had dragged the thrashing beast into the bedroom and quickly closed the door, trapping Makkachin.

Yuuri hadn’t moved an inch from where he sat on the couch, one hand clutching his mug close while the other outstretched, holding the lone container. “Uh, my bad. Sorry about that, Yurio. Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”

“No! Don’t get up, you’ll just make your leg even worse. Besides, it was my fault for carrying so many at once.”

Yuuri sat obediently on the couch as Yuri cleaned up, trying to salvage what he could and throwing the rest in the bin. 

“Viktor is going to be so disappointed in me for wasting all the food,” said Yuuri in a tired voice. “He really loves my baking.” 

Yuri scoffed. “Viktor can’t bring himself down to such a mortal level to care about wasted food,” he replied as he tipped the last crumbs into the bin. “And if he does then tell him that he had better learn how to fucking cook before he complains. He should be more grateful for having you. I would be.”

Panic gripped Yuri’s heart as he realised what he had just said. He hadn’t meant to, it had just slipped out. He was just so angry and tired, he had been bottling up so many emotions the past few days, ever since he had watched Yuuri fall. 

“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this, Yurio? It isn’t like you at all.”

Images flashed behind Yuri’s lids when he closed his eyes, the broken record of Yuuri falling on repeat. It had been a practise just like any other, Mila had been teasing Yuri, Georgi had been sulking, Yakov had been yelling, Viktor had been showing off and Yuuri had been off training in a corner alone. Nothing had been different, everything had been following the same pattern they had followed day after day, but something had gone wrong. Maybe Yuuri had been closer to the others than usual, or maybe Viktor had been more distracted, but it was impossible to pinpoint what had tipped the scale. All Yuri remembers is that Viktor had done a jump without scanning the area properly, Yuuri had realised he was too close and turned abruptly to avoid him and had somehow fallen with his leg twisted at an awkward angle. At first no one had thought it had been a problem at all, it was an extremely minor fall, but then Yuuri had tried to stand and screamed. The rest passed in a blur, an ambulance was called, Yuuri was taken away on a stretcher, Yuri had gone home in a daze and waited for the call. By it had finally arrived Yuri had been near hysterical, tears running down his face and breaths coming in short gasps. The call had been short, Yakov had said that Yuuri was fine and would be away from training for a week. 

“I’m just so fucking angry, okay!” said Yuri, his voice gaining volume with every word. “That fall could have ended you career there and then, all because of Viktor’s stupidity and the asshole isn’t even here for you.”

Yuuri swung his legs off the couch and slowly stood. “Yurio, it wasn’t Viktor’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Mistakes happen, they always do, no matter how careful you are. What is important is that no permanent damage was done and I’ll be fine.”

“THAT ISN’T THE POINT!” screamed Yuri and he was aware that tears were starting to run down his face. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Viktor is an irresponsible idiot and if he never takes responsibility for his actions. If you let this slide then next time, when it is something serious, he’ll expect the same.”

“You didn’t see Viktor at the hospital, Yurio. He was a mess and kept on apologising over and over again. I had to force him out of the house to practise this morning. Viktor can be a bit self-centred sometimes, I won’t deny that, but he does genuinely care.”

“It doesn’t matter if he cares about you, it doesn’t matter if he loves you, none of that matters! Someone can still love you and care for you, yet still hurt you, still make you feel like crap and rip your heart to pieces!” sobbed Yuri.

“Yuri,” said Yuuri with some hesitation, “are you alright? Do you need me to call Yakov? Uh, I don’t know how to put this, there seems to be some deeper… problem here.”

Yuri managed to stop his sobbing enough to gasp out, “No, don’t call Yakov!”

The full grown man in front of Yuri seemed to have no idea what to do, standing with his arms outstretched as if he did not know if he should touch Yuri or not. In the end he didn’t hug Yuri, or touch his shoulder, he just brushed Yuri’s hair back out of his face, to reveal his scarlet face.

“Is this about your mother? I know she had you young and there were issues…”

With a growl of rage Yuri grabbed Yuuri’s hands and squeezed tight. “Don’t you dare even imply that Mama would ever hurt me! She never hit me once and always kicked her boyfriends out the second they even looked at me wrong,” said Yuri, leaving out how his Mama never defended herself like she did Yuri.

Yuuri managed to extract his hands from Yuri’s and cupped the tear streaked face, seeming to have finally managed to do something compassionate. “Then where is this coming from, Yuri? I’m confused right now, you need to talk to me.”

What was the point in talking, when Yuuri would never understand? 

Instead Yuri tore Yuuri’s hands away from his face and launched forward, throwing his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders to pull him down into a kiss. Their faces collided hard, lips smashing together with enough force to hurt and it was wet and hot from Yuri’s tears, but it was everything Yuri wanted, everything he needed. It was like all the pressure that had been building up had suddenly been released. It had been choking Yuri, wrapping tighter and tighter around his neck, but now he could finally breathe. 

Against him Yuuri was still, his arms hanging by his sides and his mouth unresponsive. But when Yuri parted his mouth slightly to deepen the kiss Yuuri reared back, breaking the kiss and taking a step back.

“Yuri! I- uh, what? What was that? Why would you do that?”

Rage flooded Yuri’s veins, but he pushed it down. “Are you seriously asking me that? I thought it was really fucking obvious.”

“I know that! I just… I’m just having trouble accepting this. How?” asked Yuuri, not elaborating on what he meant by that. Instead leaving it open, posing multiple questions at once. How long? How could Yuri feel the way he did? How could he have hidden it?

Fuelled by the adrenaline that had kicked in from the kiss Yuri didn’t hesitate. “I’ve felt this way since I saw you skate for the first time, before Viktor ever loved you. There was just something in the way you skated, it just… caught me and refused to let go. I fell in love with you then and there.” 

Silence descended on the room, rolling in like a thick wave of choking smog. Yuri stood frozen, limbs unable to move, merely shake and tremble. The tears came in streams, pouring down his face and dripping from his chin as he gasped heaving sobs. Why was Yuuri not saying anything? Yuri needed him to say something. Anything!

“Yuri… I don’t know what to say.” 

“Of course you don’t.”

“What do you want me to say? I can’t say I return your feelings, no matter how much you want me to. I love Viktor. I love you as well, but like a little brother.”

“YOU THINK I DON”T KNOW THAT!?” shouted Yuri so loud his throat hurt.

Somewhere in the other room he could hear Makkachin barking and whining.

“Then why did you tell me this?”

“Because I thought you would somehow make this better. Find something to say to just stop this ache.”

“I’m not that type of person, Yuri, you know that. You shouldn’t have come to me with this expecting what you did. You know I’m not good at this stuff.”

The wave of rage inside Yuri’s chest broke and he took a step forward, shoving Yuuri in the chest, hard enough to send him tumbling back onto the couch. “DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO BLAME ME!”

Yuuri yelped in pain, his hands gripping his leg just above the knee. It wasn’t the scream from the rink and by the look on Yuuri’s face it was obvious he was just more surprised than hurt, but it was enough to shake Yuri out of his haze.

“I…” He was unable to find words to say what he was thinking. Unable to figure out what he was thinking.

Instead he turned tail and ran. Right past his cooling drink that he hadn’t even touched, right out the door to the apartment and down the stairs to the entranceway. He didn’t stop until he was outside, the grey sky above him and the cold biting at his face. 

He took a deep breath and tilted his head back, closing his eyes to try to hold back the tears. They still came, escaping from under his eyelashes. Everything hurt, from his own nails digging into the palm of his balled hands to the indescribable feeling in his chest. He had no idea what to do, how to make the hurt stop. There was no solution he could find, no path to take.

Instead he turned and walked away down the street, ignoring the buzzing of his phone in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> I did say I was working on a confession fic. Sorry it took so long, I was originally hoping to have this done by Yuri's birthday but I just couldn't get this fic to work, uni had started back up and I was struck down by illness. In the end I ended up deleting a whole heap of this fic. Originally in the end Viktor was going to show up and have a heart to heart with Yuri, but then I realized how out of character it would be with Viktor who has trouble talking with his own fiancee. I was going to spend a lot more time editing this, but I spent so long looking at it that it ceased to be words and more like a bunch of random letters on a page. 
> 
> As always feel free to criticize the fuck out of this. Or come chat and or leave some headcanons on my tumblr toaster-boss


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